(Don't Talk To Me) Just Show Me Your Talent
by SereneCalamity
Summary: Bellamy and Murphy didn't have the most...Functional of relationships. But it worked for them. Murphamy. Oneshot.


_So I've only recently gotten into the whole Murphamy ship. It sort of hit me after I saw that_ Despacito _clip, and now I'm obsessed. Haha._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own the story. And the title comes from the song_ Beast _by Mia Martina and Waka Flocka._

Bellamy Blake had been in a terrible mood all day. Well, at least he had been in a bad mood since he had first come in for his shift at the bar, which was at three o'clock that afternoon. Raven Reyes had called him out on it a couple of times, and finally Clarke Griffin had come out from the kitchen and dragged him away to give him a talking to. When he came back, he had stopped slamming glasses down on the bar top, but that sour look on his face was still here, his lips flattened in an angry line.

Generally, when something was wrong, it was Clarke that Bellamy spoke to, and usually she got through to him.

When John Murphy and Bellamy had first started sleeping together and feelings began to get involved, Murphy had been a bit jealous of the friendship that Clarke and Bellamy had. But the more he had gotten to know them, the more he realized that they were just good friends. They were both so similar—stubborn, independent, intelligent, headstrong, loving—that they had both decided a long time ago that a relationship would never work between them, but they were still close, almost like siblings.

Murphy wasn't all that good with talking about feelings and shit, and neither was Bellamy really. They had officially been a couple for two months, although they had been sleeping together for longer than that, they were both just too emotionally stunted to have that conversation that they were supposed to. When they finally did, they had both been drinking, and it really should have been something that they had when sober, but it did the trick, and they got together exclusively, much to the relief of their friends.

When things went wrong in one of their lives, they had a way of bottling it up. Murphy had always been like that, and from he had gathered from Clarke and Octavia Blake, Bellamy was as well. Eventually they would tell each other, but it would be through gritted teeth, and neither would really want to talk much about it.

When it got to eleven that night, and Bellamy was back to snapping at everyone and growling at the customers and had blamed Monty Green for getting an order wrong when Bellamy was the one who rung it up incorrectly, Murphy decided that he was probably going to need to address this head on.

They both finished work a little after one, when they were starting to cut people off, and so only three bar staff were needed. Technically, one of them would usually stay behind, since there was always a bit of clean up to do, but Raven—who was their shift supervisor—had grunted at Murphy to just get Bellamy out of there and fuck the bad mood out of him so that he showed up tomorrow with a sunnier disposition. Murphy had just rolled his eyes and gone into the kitchen area out the back where Clarke was finishing up for the night.

"Uh," Murphy began, scratching the back of his neck as he looked through the glass window in the door to where Bellamy was angrily piling dirty glasses on a tray to bring back. "Any tips on how to handle this?" Clarke snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Hey, this is your department now, pal," Clarke told him. "You're the boyfriend."

"Thanks," Murphy muttered. "Helpful." Clarke gave him a small smile as Bellamy came into the kitchen with the tray of dirty glasses, and dumped it down on the bench beside Clarke, the glasses rattling as some fell off the tray and into the sink of soapy water, splashing some up at the blonde.

"Gee," she shot him a dark look. "Thanks." Bellamy would usually apologize to her, but he just returned her dark look and Murphy decided that it was probably time that they got out of there. As the two men began walking to the back exit, Clarke called out after them, "Maybe use that magic mouth that Bell's always going on about to put him in a better mood!" Bellamy pulled the fingers over his shoulder at her, while Murphy just rolled his eyes.

Murphy wasn't too sure if Bellamy even wanted him to come home with him tonight, but Bellamy didn't say anything as Murphy followed him. Bellamy lived in an apartment building just a block away from the bar, while Murphy lived with John Mbege and Nathan Miller in a house just outside the main city. So Murphy kept on following him, about half a step behind, unlike how he would usually walk alongside him.

Bellamy walked up the concrete stairs on the side of his apartment building, and unlocked the door, leaving it open as he went inside for Murphy to follow. Murphy took his time once he was inside, actually leaning down to unlace his shoes rather than just toeing them off like he normally would. When he straightened up, he could see the light on in Bellamy's room, and he walked slowly down to the room. Bellamy was jerking at the hem of the shirt he was wearing, tugging it over his head and throwing it to the ground, not even trying to get it in the washing basket in the corner of the room, which was completely unlike him, given what a neat freak he could be.

"So..." Murphy began, shoving his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, searching for something to say, standing in the doorway. "You wanna talk about it?"

"No," Bellamy grunted from where he was standing beside the bed, undoing his belt. Murphy pursed his lips together as he stepped closer.

"Are you sure?" He asked, feeling kind of clueless as to what he was meant to say here. "Coz, uh...You seem pretty pissed about something."

"I said I didn't want to fucking talk about it," Bellamy growled as he turned around to face Murphy, his belt undone and hanging loosely from the loops of his jeans. "Didn't Clarke tell you to use your mouth? You're hell of a lot better at using that around my cock than you are with trying to be understanding or sympathetic or whatever the fuck it is that you're trying to be here," he waved a hand between them. The words were unkind coming from his mouth, but Murphy barely flinched, because he could take it. Bellamy was angry and he was just lashing out. Murphy could deal with that, because he understood.

So rather than talking and trying to sort through whatever it was that was on his mind, Murphy just crossed the room and crushed his lips against Bellamy's. It was rough, and their teeth clashed together a few times as the men found their rhythm, and then Murphy was taking over, moving faster, pushing his tongue inside Bellamy's mouth without any preamble. Bellamy let out a cut off grunt in surprise when Murphy's hands came up and grabbed his biceps, fingers curling inward and digging into the taunt skin. Bellamy tried to keep up with Murphy, but Murphy was good at this game. He had been an angry, suppressed teenager for years, before finally coming to terms with himself, and he was good at giving back tenfold anything that Bellamy was about to dish out.

Bellamy reached out with a hand to grab Murphy's shirt, but Murphy let out hand drop from Bellamy's hand and slap him away. Bellamy began to pull back from Murphy's mouth, maybe to ask a question, but Murphy didn't care to hear it, following after Bellamy's mouth and biting down hard on his lower lip, possibly hard enough to draw blood.

"Shit," Bellamy muttered, his hand coming up to his mouth, and Murphy paused, tilting his head to the side and watching as Bellamy pulled his hand away, and in the dim light of the room, Murphy saw a smear of red on Bellamy's fingers.

"Huh," Murphy said with a shrug of his shoulder, noting that he _had_ drawn blood. Then he leaned back and was bumping his nose roughly against Bellamy's as he grabbed his shoulders and turned them around. Bellamy let out another surprised sound as Murphy shoved him down on the bed, and reached from his pants. Murphy jerked open the button and zipper of the curly haired mans jeans and then pulled them down roughly, not giving Bellamy much of a chance to catch up with what was going on. Bellamy only just managed to lift his hips and scramble backward on the bed before Murphy was jerking his own shirt over his head, almost tripped as he took off his jeans and then fell forward on Bellamy. He crawled up on the bed, Murphy's knees on either side of Bellamy's hips and his hands on either side of his head as he kissed him again.

"Fuck," Bellamy groaned as Murphy ground their dicks against one anothers, still biting and licking at his mouth. Murphy was relentless, rolling his hips down, over and over again as he crouched over Bellamy. Murphy lightened up on the assault that he had been waging on Bellamy's mouth, letting the older man tilt his head and draw in some much needed breath as he worked his way down Bellamy's neck. Bellamy groaned again, the needy sound just spurring Murphy on as he bit down hard on Bellamy's neck, making the man underneath him jerk and twitch underneath him, pre-cum dripping from the head of his cock. Murphy sucked and licked at the red mark on Bellamy's neck. "Shit, shit, shit," Bellamy thrust his hips up to press his hard cock against Murphy's, and Murphy let him, but he didn't make any move to reach between them and relieve the ache that was building in his stomach. "Murphy, I—"

"Shut up," Murphy grumbled as his teeth began biting down on Bellamy's collarbone, shuffling down the other mans body so that his mouth and hands could move lower. This meant that Bellamy no longer had anything to thrust against, the head of his cock only just managing to catch Murphy's hardened stomach when he lifted his ass fully off the bed.

" _John_ ," Bellamy sighed, sounding a little more desperate as Murphy's mouth circled around one of Bellamy's nipples—the pierced one that Murphy loved to play with—and one of his hands pulled at the other nipple, which was pebbled under the touch. "Shit— _shit_ ," Bellamy was restless underneath Murphy, loving the way that Murphy was touching him with just enough to make fire burn through his veins, but not giving him quite enough to satisfy that ache that was just getting more and more in the pit of his stomach. It had only been three days since the last time they had had sex, but Bellamy had always loved being man handled, even if it wasn't something that he let happen very often.

It had him painfully hard and dripping over his stomach.

Murphy adjusted the way he was sitting, moving his knees so that they were between Bellamy's legs, and then he grabbed one of Bellamy's legs and jerked it, moving it over, slapping at one hip until Bellamy finally got the hint and rolled over. He had barely made it onto his stomach and steadied himself on his hands and knees, when Murphy was leaning forward and biting one ass cheek so hard that Bellamy's whole body jerked forward as he swore loudly. Then Murphy has grabbing both ass cheeks and pulled them apart, his mouth moving forward without warning, his tongue laving over Bellamy's hole.

"Fuck!" Bellamy cried, and his hips attempted to jerk forward again, but Murphy's hands were firm, and Bellamy wasn't able to move anywhere. Murphy didn't even try to be graceful about what he was doing, making loud slurping noises and curling his tongue into a point and pushing it against the circle of muscles, the wet and obscene noises making Bellamy harder still. Murphy's own cock was aching between him legs, but he knew how much Bellamy liked being eaten out, and he had plans to make his boyfriend a complete mess before he finally got them both off.

Bellamy didn't let himself be vulnerable very often.

He had grown up with an abusive father who had walked out when he was nine, leaving Bellamy as the man of the house with an alcoholic mother and a baby sister. He didn't like not being in control, or being the one who had the upper hand in _any_ situation.

Murphy had only actually fucked Bellamy twice, and both times Bellamy had been drunk. Bellamy had admitted to Murphy once, as they had lain in bed together, coming down from their post-sex high, that he liked being fucked, but he found it hard to get out of his head and let someone else take over. Murphy had made sure that Bellamy was okay when they had had sex when they were drunk, but Bellamy had always wanted it, and the next day he would say that he liked it, but he just found it hard to get _there_. So Murphy had been trying to take it slowly, sliding his fingers between the crease in Bellamy's ass cheeks when they were fooling around, asking to eat him out, letting Bellamy know in his own awkward way that he wasn't going to take advantage of the trust that Bellamy was putting in him and hurt him.

But from the way that Bellamy was groaning and writhing around in front of Murphy, pushing his ass back against his face and repeating his name over and over again into the pillow in front of him, Murphy was guessing that he had pretty successfully managed to get Bellamy out of his head.

Murphy's chin and cheeks were damp from saliva, and he pulled back as he heard a change in pitch to Bellamy's moaning. He looked at the way that Bellamy was hunched forward, rutting his hips helpless, unable to find any friction for his cock. Murphy rubbed his hand soothingly over Bellamy's perfect ass, his thumb trailing down between his cheeks and catching lightly at Bellamy's rim, drawing out another gasp.

"Is this okay?" Murphy asked, his voice soft and genuine, even as bruises were forming in the shape of his fingerprints on Bellamy's ass. There was a groan from Bellamy, words illegible, and Murphy leaned forward, dropping a few kisses to Bellamy's spine. "I need to hear you say it."

"If you don't fuck me, I'm going to punch you in the face," Bellamy growled out, his voice rough. Murphy smirked against Bellamy's skin, before reaching to the bedside table close by, and pulling open the top draw. He found the little bottle of lube easily and moved to rest back behind Bellamy as he poured some over two fingers and then tossed the bottle onto the bed beside him. Bellamy was already loosened up from Murphy's attentions with his tongue, and Murphy easily slipped a finger inside. A cocky grin spread across his face as he heard Bellamy moan, his face buried in the pillow and his ass stuck in the air, pressing back against Murphy. Murphy quickly slid another finger inside, and Bellamy's moan made his cock throb.

"You think you're ready, Bell?" Murphy asked as he wrapped his other hand around himself and tugged at his cock a few times, relieving some of the pressure that had been building. Bellamy just moaned in verbal response, although Murphy saw him jerk his head in a nod a couple of times. Murphy scissored his fingers inside Bellamy, curling them in just the right way that made Bellamy moan and jerk again as he hit that bundle of nerves. "Roll over," Murphy told him as he reached for the bedside table again to find a condom.

"It's fine," Bellamy grunted out as he rolled over, his pupils wide and sweat beading at his forehead. His lips were bright red, as though he had been chewing at them non stop, and there was still a slight sliver of blood on the right side of his lower lip from where Murphy had bit him. "It's—I don't mind if you don't wear one." Bellamy said, swallowing hard as he looked up at Murphy. Murphy considered him for a moment before nodding, and picking up the lube. He poured some over his cock, sliding his hand up and down a few times, before leaning forward, positioning himself with his head pushing lightly against Bellamy's hole. Bellamy reached out a hand to grab Murphy's, and Murphy let him have it, balancing himself by widening the distance between his knees.

Murphy rested the hand that Bellamy wasn't gripping tightly on Bellamy's toned stomach, fingers curling around his hip, pushing into Bellamy slowly. Bellamy squeezed his eyes shut as he adjusted to the intrusion, and Murphy took in a few deep breaths as Bellamy squeezed, hot and tight around him.

When Bellamy's eyes opened again, they were heated, almost pitch black, and Murphy started moving. The first few thrusts were slow, but then they were faster, blunt fingernails digging in and hard thrust hitting that spot in Bellamy every couple entries, making Bellamy's eyes roll back in his head. Murphy could feel the sweat beginning to drip down his back, and he wanted to close his eyes at the onslaught of pleasure that was wracking through his body, but he couldn't stop looking at Bellamy and just how fucking gorgeous he was.

His curly hair was splayed out over the pillow, his eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth had fallen open, panting out curses and Murphy's first name every few breaths, his knuckles white where they were clenched, one around Murphy's hand and the other in the duvet cover at his side.

Murphy leaned forward, kissing his boyfriend messily, and Bellamy kissed back. There was absolutely no elegance, it was all teeth and lips missing on one anothers, but Bellamy started moaning even louder, and Murphy couldn't stop his own whine of approval at the change of angle. His thrusts were shorter, aborted, but they were going deeper, and Murphy knew that he wasn't far off coming. Bellamy made a few attempts to reach for his cock, but Murphy shoved his hand away each time, muffling whines with more kisses.

Murphy pulled back just as he felt his balls tighten, and he jerked out of Bellamy as he came, coming in messy, white streaks over Bellamy's cock and lower stomach. Bellamy's eyes widened as he looked at the mess down on his stomach, his gaze looking almost spaced out, and Murphy only tugged on Bellamy's cock once before the other man was coming as well, his back arching off the bed and his fingers cracking painfully around Murphy's as he came, virtually untouched.

Bellamy's stomach was a mess with both of their come, but he didn't seem to care as he finally laid back down on the bed, his breathing heavy, his chest heaving up and down, and his hand still tightly around Murphy's. Murphy considered pulling his hand away to go down to the bathroom to get something to clean up with, but Bellamy's grip was firm, and so instead, Murphy shuffled around until he could lay down next to Bellamy on the bed. They lay there in silence for a long time, before Bellamy eventually spoke.

"Lincoln is going to ask O to marry him," he said, his voice low. Murphy bit back his usual sarcastic remark, which would be something about how Bellamy was thinking about his sister and her boyfriend while they were in bed together, and settled for squeezing Bellamy's hand.

"You not good with that?" He asked. "I thought that you liked Lincoln." Bellamy was quiet for a moment.

"No...No, I do," Bellamy continued quietly. "But he came to me...He came to me to ask for my blessing. Usually you'd do that with someones father, and if they weren't around, I guess their mother. But..." he trailed off again, but Murphy already knew what he meant.

"Octavia is lucky to have you," Murphy said quietly, squeezing his hand again. Bellamy turned his head on the pillow, and looked at Murphy.

"And I'm lucky to have you," he murmured. Murphy didn't know what to reply, so he didn't say anything, but it didn't seem as though Bellamy was expecting him to, because he leaned in to give him a soft kiss on the mouth before resting back on his pillow. They were quiet for a few beats before Bellamy lifted his head again to look down at his stomach. "You want to share a shower?" He asked.

"That sounds like a good idea," Murphy let out a laugh as he rolled off the bed.

 _Let me know what you think :)_


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